


Crisis

by PrinceJakeFireCake



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Confident Will Graham, Dirty Thoughts, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate Erections, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, The One Where Will Is The Sexually Confident One, the Hannibal Sexuality Crisis Fic Everyone Deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 20:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceJakeFireCake/pseuds/PrinceJakeFireCake
Summary: The sexuality fic in which Hannibal assumed he was straight his whole life, not for lack of experimentation, only to meet Will and have his whole world knocked off its axis since he finds attracted to a man sexually, for the first time ever, so he considers either murdering or making out with him.Featuring: Will Graham as the Confident Bisexual, Hannibal Lecter as the Flustered Will-sexual, and everyone else as bystanders.





	Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely just fluff and an excuse to have Hannibal be the flustered one. I just really wanted to have an excuse for Will to laugh in Hannibal's face.

Hannibal Lecter knew how he appeared. He was a middle-aged, European, well-dressed bachelor who was in touch with emotions, but he'd honestly always believed himself to be straight. It wasn't even that he'd never attempted to be with a man, he just hadn't been very pleased with the small amount of exploration he'd done, nor did he find any men particularly sexually or romantically attractive, so he'd made the very logical assumption that men didn't do anything for him.

Then, Jack Crawford had brought him in to profile Will Graham.

Will Graham was, in all respects, about as masculine as he could appear. He had what was nearing a full beard, wore an ugly shirt with a tie that didn't match, and held a presence to him that was decidedly 'talk to me wrong and I'll bite your head off.' He also had a terrible slouch and mumbled. Hannibal didn't particularly like the man, who smelled strongly of dogs and stress, at first glance, but did his best to be polite. It was only when Will Graham bitterly made eye contact that Hannibal realized, really and truly, that the man was the most gorgeous one he'd ever seen.

There was a moment, as Will stormed out in a rage, that Hannibal had imagined drawing him in all different lights, in his bed, in Hannibal's bed, and drenched in blood, shining beneath the light of the moon. It took Hannibal's breath away, leading to an explanation to Crawford that basically anyone who looked at Will knew, but Crawford treated as new. Hannibal couldn't even think straight, his world turned on its head because of Will and his sharp jaw, his slight snarl, his blue, blue eyes. Hannibal sat in his car, trying to regain his balance, for nearly five minutes.

The forced loss of control, if nothing else, made Hannibal think of a few ways to murder him. He'd never been attracted to men, but this one had to go if he was going to be so intoxicating. Or, Hannibal considered just sleeping with him, to see if the attraction would go away. A brief image popped into his mind, of Will Graham with his glasses perched on his nose, his mouth tilted up in a smirk, his head tilted back and his neck begging to be marked, his eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure. The very thought made the stoic, well-controlled man blush, and murdering Will was back on the menu.

 

The inner turmoil between murdering and sleeping with Will was not helped, at all, by Will in his underwear. If anything, it gave Hannibal a lot more fantasies of how to get Will out of the clothes he was wearing. Hannibal had never felt so much like a preteen with a crush. Luckily, Will mostly read faces, and Hannibal's poker face was top-notch, so Will let him in without concern over whether or not Hannibal would stab him with a fork or grab his face and make out with him.

The practically pornographic noise Will made when he took his first bite of the protein scramble didn't help. Will's wry smile and weary conversation didn't help either. When Will laughed, Hannibal's fingers actually twitched around his fork. Will either didn't notice or didn't care, because he just ran a hand over his face and continued conversation.

Hours later, with the ambulance on the way to the hospital and Hannibal safely away from the blood-soaked Will and his piercing gaze that seemed to see right through him, Hannibal knew that Will had to go. Hannibal also knew that he was turned on beyond anything in his life and he'd never been happier to have control over his face and body. Otherwise, the paramedics would be asking very different questions.

 

Hannibal had honestly began his journey to Will's house with the intention to murder him. He had firmly shut out the ideas that filled two entire rooms in his mind palace with images of sexed-out Will, sticking to the images of Will gasping for air, still devastatingly pretty but no longer alive to cause Hannibal any trouble. Hannibal had never considered strangling someone a particularly sexual act, but the image of Will's pink lips parting for air, his eyes fluttering shut, his chest heaving, his strong hands struggling around Hannibal's wrists, made Hannibal consider that maybe strangulation was too intimate for his plans.

Either way, Hannibal had not expected to get to Will's house, only to find Will's car absent. His dogs barked up a storm, which Will would've stopped immediately and succinctly if he was present. Hannibal settled into his seat, slightly disappointed, only to realize the dogs weren't barking at him. They were barking at the man currently scrambling out of Will's broken window.

Hannibal had already smashed his head against the pavement before he'd had any second thoughts. Unfortunately, the blood pooling out from the dying man's skull only reminded Hannibal of how utterly wicked Will had looked after shooting Garrett Jacob Hobbs and attempting to save his daughter. Hannibal pulled the burglar into the plastic garbage bag meant for Will, shoving the body in the trunk. He swept some snow over the blood, knowing it would water down and hoping Will wouldn't notice too soon and panic.

As Hannibal drove back to Baltimore, he rethought Will's murder. Strangling him in his own bed, watching the life fade out of his eyes, then stuffing him in a plastic garbage bag to display him somewhere fitting- none of that would work. Hannibal honestly couldn't believe that he could strangle Will and be able to resist kissing him, which would slacken his grip, which would lead to Will having many questions that Hannibal couldn't answer. Also, it'd be hard to break in, the dogs barked at everything, according to Will, so it would be impossible to break in and get Will in his bed, sleeping. Also, Will just didn't deserve to be shoved in a garbage bag. He was prickly, but never outright impolite. 

Hannibal's thoughts whirling, he erased the idea of strangling Will from his mind. Will deserved a bit more delicacy. Hannibal could imagine slowly disecting Will alive, his eyes teary and clenched shut in pain. It would be so easy to remove his heart, as the light from Will's eyes faded. There were so many recipes that Hannibal could make with his heart, his lungs, his spleen- He'd avoid his liver, however, because he had been able to smell Will's breath the morning in the motel and he had no disillusionment towards what was on that breath.

Thoughts of cooking and the morning in the motel only led Hannibal's thoughts to Will eating his cooking, the food tearing a moan from his throat as his eyes fluttered shut and a smile curled around the fork. The sudden, intrusive image of Will eating a heart, perhaps straight from the pig, bathed in blood, that same smile and flutter of eyelids, made Hannibal nearly ram into a streetlight. 

Hannibal slammed on the breaks, just barely stopping in time. His heart beat just that much faster, out of fear and arousal. Hannibal only just held himself back from slamming his own head into the steering wheel. He was an adult, he reminded himself. The rest of the drive home, he resolutely ignored all thoughts of Will.

He may have been a bit rougher than usual with the scalpel that evening. His cuts were ragged and harsh, blood spilling a bit more freely than usual as he tore several organs from the man, perhaps more viciously than he had been in a while.

"It's cathartic," he grumbled, to himself, squeezing the burglar's heart until it actually popped in his grip.

 

Will refused Hannibal's invitation to be his patient, which Hannibal considered for the best. If his track record with Will was anything to go by, official therapy would end in him losing his practice and all credibility. Will himself only supported this theory, as Hannibal could hardly resist reaching out to feel the smooth back beneath the pooling fabric. Will had lost weight since he'd bought the shirt, Hannibal noted in his head.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" came out of Hannibal's mouth, despite the fact that he was cooking the burglar's lungs and he wasn't precisely sure Will wouldn't see right through him.

Will gave him a strange look over his shoulder, having been in the middle of perusing Hannibal's selection of books. He raised an eyebrow, slowly turning around.

"I'm sorry," Will murmured, large, blue eyes peering curiously at Hannibal, not unlike a predator watching prey. "I had a break in the other day. I've got to replace my window, it got pretty shattered, so that my dogs and I won't freeze."

"Another night, perhaps?" Hannibal suggested, mentally cursing himself for pressing the issue.

"Sure," Will agreed, smiling easily as he rolled up his sleeves and revealed his arms for Hannibal to try not to stare at. Will made this easier by saying, "I didn't take you for the dinner date type, Dr. Lecter."

There were a few beats of silence where Will seemed to realize what he said and Hannibal just stared at him and willed down his blush with great force. Will smacked a hand over his mouth, his face reddening up to his ears and down what of his neck Hannibal could see.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," Will grumbled. "I just- I didn't expect you to invite me to dinner. It was just a joke, albeit a joke in poor taste."

"No, no, I'm not upset." Hannibal was secretly very proud of how even and calm his voice came out. "It wasn't in poor taste. I won't ask you if it makes you uncomfortable."

"I know you meant as friends, Doctor," Will laughed, nervously, letting his hands fall. "It wouldn't have made me uncomfortable, either way. I'm very comfortable in my bisexuality. That doesn't matter, I know you didn't mean it that way."

Will turned around, back towards the bookshelf, as though he hadn't completely turned Hannibal's world on its head, not to mention having filled Hannibal's head with various images of Will in varying throes of pleasure, with both faceless men and faceless women, all of which Hannibal considered murdering in cold blood for being able to touch Will before Hannibal could.

"Anyway," Will said, an oddly knowing smile on his face, "I'd be happy to join you for dinner another night." Will spared a glance to his watch. "Tonight, however, I have a date with a new window. Text me sometime."

Will walked towards the door, Hannibal subconsciously following to open the door for him. Will gave him a sudden, wry smile.

"I hope you don't text me in the middle of one of Jack's cases," he said. "Good night, Dr. Lecter."

"Drive safe, Will," Hannibal responded automatically, suddenly regretting ever telling Jack Crawford that Will was fine for fieldwork.

 

Hannibal couldn't stop thinking about Will. His calloused palms and fingers, small and knowing smile, narrowed and amused blue eyes, soft and longish curls, even the stubble that Hannibal couldn't stop thinking about leaving red marks on his thighs and face. Will was strong, even in his underfed body, and he was definitely the type to spread someone out beneath him, pink tongue peeking out just enough to dampen his dry lips, his eyes electric blue as he bent down, graceful neck leading to a long, curved back as he just gazed, inches away-

Hannibal decided he'd gotten enough sleep and decided to clean all the rooms in his house. It was three in the morning and he was several hours into cleaning the third guest room, when he got a phone call. He glanced at the screen, noting the time and that it was Alana Bloom.

"Hello?" he answered, curious. Alana never called between the hours of eleven at night and four in the morning.

"Hey, Hannibal," Alana greeted, her voice bathed in concern. "I just got a call from Jack Crawford that Will had a breakdown at a scene. I'm on my way, but you're closer-"

"No worries," Hannibal replied, feeling suddenly very much back in his element now that Will was decidedly out of his. "Just tell me the location."

It only took ten minutes for Hannibal to show up at the gross, rundown hotel. Will stood outside, wrapped in a flimsy coat with his face tilted up to the sky. He was shivering violently, the bags under his eyes were truly impressive, and he gave a thin smile when he saw Hannibal approach. Hannibal felt a warmth beneath his skin and thought about killing Will right there.

"Is it against your ethics to give a man a hug?" Will whispered, just soft enough that nobody else could hear.

"Not when the man had a breakdown," Hannibal replied.

Will was almost the exact same height as Hannibal, but Hannibal couldn't lie and say Will didn't fit perfectly in his arms. Will tucked his head into Hannibal's neck, his scruff tickling the delicate skin and making Hannibal fight the want to stiffen. Will sighed, just slightly, the air brushing against Hannibal's ear, and Hannibal melted inwardly. 

"Thanks," Will whispered, pulling away too soon for Hannibal's liking. "The killer killed all the pets this poor lady had with her. That's a dog and two cats! It's disgusting."

"It is," Hannibal agreed, finding his hand on Will's lower back as they meandered slowly through the halls of the hotel. "I thought Jack knew your affection towards animals?"

"He does," Will hummed, calming down enough to be visibly tired. "However, when someone replaces a lady's head with her dog's head and puts a cat in the dog's mouth and another on the ground by the scene, he's got no real choice, does he?"

"He does," Hannibal argued, gently. "He has the choice to do his own job."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Jack grumbled, since they'd arrived back at the room holding the scene of the crime.

"I'm not," Beverly Katz chirped, peeking out of the open door. "Could you repeat that, Dr. Lecter? I'm going to record it for later."

"Me too," Jimmy Price called from inside the room.

"I'm glad you're not too scarred, Will," Beverly commented.

"Well, Jack called a professional," Will replied, patting Hannibal's shoulder. "Hannibal was the one to show up, but it's the thought that counts."

Beverly snickered, Jack rolled his eyes, and Will gave Hannibal a sideways glance that made Hannibal feel vaguely like a bolt of electricity shot down his spine. Will, to Hannibal's utter shock, gave him a wink before he returned to the crime scene. Hannibal stared after him, Beverly and Jack following behind him. They hadn't seen it. A few minutes later, Alana arrived.

"Are you okay, Hannibal?" she asked.

"Just a shocking site," he lied. 

"Horrible," she agreed, shaking her head. "I'm glad you were able to come calm Will down."

Hannibal nodded, because he wasn't sure if anymore words could come out.

 

If Will had haunted Hannibal's thoughts before, it was nothing compared to the total domination of his thoughts that occurred after the Hug, capitalized because Hannibal couldn't stop thinking about Will's surprisingly warm body pressed against his own. He thought about it while he got ready for bed. He considered how to hug someone while murdering them while he prepared breakfast. He wondered if Will was the type to hug after sex while he pretended to pay attention to his patients. He pondered how easy it would be to lift Will up while Will himself was in his company, quietly perusing his books. Will's snort as he dropped into the chair across from Hannibal knocked the older man out of his thoughts only for him to get lost in the confident tilt of Will's mouth.

"Dr. Lecter." Hannibal would've said that Will purred if he hadn't seen the plain amusement in the other man's eyes. "You seem distracted."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Hannibal responded immediately, but Will only laughed. Hannibal's grip tightened on the armrests of his chair.

Will settled comfortably back in his own seat. He seemed oddly comfortable for a mostly uncomfortable, nervous man. He carefully removed his glasses, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt, then he considered Hannibal like he considered crime scenes. Hannibal, at this point, was well practiced in stifling his arousal beneath Will's gaze.

"Hannibal, are attracted to me?" Will questioned, his head tilting slightly to the side. He seemed a mixture of confused and amused, as though this was an outcome he hadn't seen coming.

"Well, if you're asking, you must already have an idea of the answer," Hannibal replied vaguely.

Will laughed. Hannibal was personally affronted by how hard it was to stifle his arousal from just that. Will looked, if anything, more baffled than before.

"Really?" he asked, his tone light and jovial. "Dr. Lecter, you're a well-respected doctor and socialite, known for your skills in the kitchen, and you're attracted to me?"

"Believe me, I didn't see it coming, either," Hannibal grumbled, annoyed by the teasing tone of Will's voice.

Hannibal should've known that would just give Will ideas. By the look on Will's face, the considering in his eyes and the sudden twitch of his lips before his grin broadened, Hannibal had given the whole game away.

"Are you telling me," Will began, laughter clear in his voice and eyes, "that I, Will Graham, made you, Hannibal Lecter, question his sexuality?"

Hannibal winced, which was as good as having a neon 'YES' sign above his head when it came to Will. Will laughed, loud and long. Hannibal considered, not for the first time that conversation, or even day, murdering him with his bare hands. Before he could, however, Will swept out of his chair and kissed him, firmly and chastely, on the lips. 

Will's eyes fluttered closed at the press, though Hannibal's only followed after he took in that sight. Will's hands cupped his face, calloused fingers holding him in place as Will tilted his head to fix the angle. Hannibal gently gripped Will's waist, the fabric still bunched and loose where it sat, untucked, above the waistline of his pants. Will hummed, one hand dropping to grip Hannibal's. Hannibal choked on a moan, already embarrassingly hard from the chaste press of lips alone.

Will pulled back, unbelievably smug and attractive.

"I suggest we explore this newfound aspect of your personality thoroughly," he grinned, still smug.

Hannibal rolled his eyes and kissed him again. Will was lucky he was unfairly attractive and bafflingly polite, or else that crack would've actually ended up with him murdered. Will laughed into the kiss. Hannibal realized, suddenly, that murder was, most likely, off the table.


End file.
